


Insomnia, But It’s Not My Fault

by Naii (Niftai)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Ending, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Intrusive Thoughts, Lynching (presumably) Mention, Major Character Death(s) Mention, Mild Gore, Nicknames, Not Really Character Death, Remus Being An Asshole, Swearing, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Tea, Unsympathetic Remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-01 19:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20263504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niftai/pseuds/Naii
Summary: Deceit, as of late, can't sleep well and reveals his exhaustion in a meeting with the Sides.





	1. 1 - Dreaming Up An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at a sanders sides fic, so sorry if it sucks or something

How weird. Fractions of someone’s personality, feeling exhaustion. It’s illogical, by all standards. Sure, burnout could happen, but not to _self-preservation_. A natural instinct.

And yet, here he stands. An exhausted Deceit in the midst of the living room, summoned by one of the others. Dark circles rim his human eye, while the snake eye’s pupil is wide, unfocused. Thomas is standing where he usually does, lamenting about the pros and cons of lying about something inane. However, being blatantly honest did run the risk of losing someone’s trust, ironically. And lying would make Thomas feel bad but the friend wouldn’t be affected. Usual deal.

As soon as Deceit was summoned, the rest of them began complaining about how it’s bad to lie, and that he shouldn’t pull another SvS.

“Go ahead, be honest. It’s not like I’m gonna stop you anyway.”

The Sides quiet, and Thomas blinks. “Wha—no argument?”

“I’m too tired to argue with such a… loud group such as yourself. If you don’t want to lie, who am I to stop you?”

Virgil quickly replies, “Hey, snake face, you’re literally _Deceit. _You should be advocating for lying like it’s the cure to cancer.”

A small smile grows on Deceit’s face as he mutters, “well, there _is_ the Placebo effect, remember?”

“Yeah, well… whatever, you’re acting weird.”

“I have to agree with Judy Moody over there, you’re not acting like your normal…” Roman searches for a description. “Slimy self.”

Logan quickly interjects with the question, “_Are_ your scales slimy? I haven’t had time to ask yet.”

Deceit seems to become more and more tired with every sentence. But, he humors Logan with a simple ‘no.’

“I knew it. Roman, you owe me five dollars.”

“What?! No way, I was _sure _they were...”

Deceit snaps his head up, realizing he’s been dozing off. Roman and Logan talk about the bet, which was obviously won by Logan, despite Roman’s desperate attempts to save his not-that-damaged pride. It’s another stupid argument, fueled by hubris.

Virgil notices the Dark Side nearly fall asleep while standing up and offers an ‘are you okay’ look to Deceit, who nods. Patton would have given more than a glance, probably would have peppered him with questions while secretly being relieved that Deceit didn’t feel like lying. Unfortunately, the fatherly Side was missing from this conversation, because of something or another in the Mindscape.

“Is that all you need from me?”

Thomas, who is still surprised from the earlier announcement, responds, “Uhm, I guess, yeah?”

“Good.”

And Deceit sinks out, returning to the Dark half of the mindscape, a dimly-lit version of the living space featured in Thomas’s videos. Not dimly-lit in a nice, warm way, in the way that a dying lightbulb lights the room of a villain.

Loud snores come from Remus’s room, giving the lying Side a glimmer of hope that maybe he’ll get more than an hour of sleep. The torn-up couch looks inviting, and the misplaced stuffing, in this tired Side’s mind, could possibly be like a pillow.

~

Despite not being one of the Creativitwins, Deceit had noticeably vivid dreams. Every blade of grass was in sharp focus, even the faces of random people were completely distinct from one another. Though, they were all from memory, seeing as the brain can’t invent new faces.

However, _unlike _the Creativitwins, all of the dreams were realistic, no dragons, or castles, or mythological beings there to threaten modern civilization. The dreams all started next to a lake; Dee’s late pet snake curled around his shoulders. They would always be there, the dual-headed snake full of life, and by the end of the dream (or start of the nightmare, in most cases) they would disintegrate— sometimes, they rapidly decay into nothing but bone.

It was just another reminder of a certain, unpredictable Side’s impulsive actions. One that Deceit could never get used to.

Dr. Trickle and Mr. Lied (which was shortened to Trickle and Lied) glances up at the Side, blissfully unaware of their own fate, and bleps their tongues at him. Deceit idly strokes their heads and stares out into the glittering lake he always appears by.

He waits for it. The sudden clap of thunder, the sky darkening, obnoxious cackling in the distance. Remus’s grand entrance.

Nothing.

Well now, that was even worse.

He slowly gets up, and turns towards the town, a small place just outside of a big city. Several houses with a few shops tacked on to the side form a small circle. Deceit knows who lives where and what is sold like the back of his hand, so he heads towards the outlier shop, a small place that deals with jewelry, and ‘specialty items’. Due to the fact these were all lucid dreams, he often fenced things he conjured on the spot. The storeowner wouldn’t know, anyway.

As he approaches the shop, he gets a glimpse of the inside. Hanging on the wall, is a morning star and a string, hanging six or so shuriken on the wall.

Perhaps a different shop.

As he turns to go to the old couple’s trinket store, the weight of Trickle and Lied disappears, and—with a sickening bout of laughter—Remus enters the scene.

“Hey, Dee!! How are you?”

Deceit casually flicks off the skeleton from his shoulders, ignoring how the bones clack together as they hit the ground, before turning to face the green Side. “Greetings, Remus. I’m doing well,” he lies.

“Oh, well, that’s great to know—you know, I had this _idea_…” Remus keeps talking, taking Deceit’s hand and leading him somewhere, occasionally letting go and walking backwards. “What if, now that Virgil’s gone, we can share the room?! Without him so insistent on privacy, we don’t need our own rooms! Isn’t that a great idea? We can have a movie night, and I can be in your dreams—” he smirks. “Not like I’m not already~”

_What is this? Kindness? Good intent? _

“What do you think?!”

“I’d prefer if we didn’t. I quite like my room.”

Remus’s face falls, and this rips at Deceit’s heartstrings. He’s about to apologize, and say he’ll consider the idea, when a surge of… intrusive thoughts paint the dream. The light Sides are in all of these. Mangled, pale, some with obvious blunt force trauma induced by nothing other than a morning star. Logan, lying on the floor with the shuriken lodged in his forehead. The reference was not missed. The other three were much less striking, aside from Patton. He physically cringed at Patton’s.

~

Deceit gasps awake, tears forming already. Remus is crouched by the couch, resting his head on his hand. “C’mon—wouldn’t you love to spend more time with me?”

The clock informs Deceit that he had gotten a mere hour of sleep, which in turn makes him feel more tired than he was before.

“It’s nine, so we can just watch movies until morning, right?!”

“S…sure. Which ones?”

“Feelin’ the Saw series! Since we’re fictional, we don’t have to pay for Prime Video!”

Those movies were much easier to stomach.


	2. 2 – Reality Dragging Me Down To A Conclusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> perhaps a little bit of loceit, if you look into it.

It happens again. And again. Currently, Deceit is shivering, even while wrapped in several blankets. He wants to turn on the heat lamp that they specifically got since, well, he’s half snake, but the light would likely wake Remus.

The Dark Side is so _cold_. _Why?_

Deceit stands slowly, staring blankly ahead as he navigates the living space in pitch black. Living there most of his life got him used to the weird layout of the place. Since this place never ages, the floorboards don’t creak.

As he approaches the doorway leading to the Light Side—one of the many entrances there—he pauses. _What if they don’t understand? They’ll think I’m just overreacting. Being overly dramatic. Selfish, even._

He quietly sighs at the irony of so heavily considering everyone else’s feelings.

Various strange noises startle the Side out of his train of thought, and he instinctively slips against the wall. After a few, noise-less seconds, he tentatively opens the door.

Warm air, like wandering into a big store during winter, gracefully smacks him in the face. Whatever, it’s better.

A soft light illuminates the kitchen, bright enough for one to read, but not so bright as to fully ‘wake’ someone up. At the table, a familiar, monotone Side sits, and the image of Logan, dead on the floor flashes in front of Dee’s eyes. He's sipping tea at the table while reading something on a Kindle. 

“Tch. I still prefer paper,” Deceit mumbles quietly, flinching when he realizes he said it out loud. Logan turns to face him and stays quiet for a moment.

“Deceit? What are you doing here?”

Deceit smiles, and confidently replies, “I appear to have wandered here. But, since it seems I don’t—”

“Why are you up in the first place? Shouldn’t you be recovering your lost sleep?” Logan interrupts, politeness forgotten because it is, in fact, two am.

“Well—why are _you _up?” Deceit replies, rather defensively. He’s hyper-aware of his appearance, which is absolutely nothing like the classical villain look that everyone expects. A cape made out of wool and fleece blankets, all of them either a dark grey or gold-ish color, and a dark brown set of PJs.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Logan answers, as though it’s just that simple. Deceit supposes it _is _that simple. _I _am_ just overreacting. _

“Ah—uhm—I’ll just, leave—”

“Sit down, I’ll make more tea.”

Deceit frowns, and watches as Logan, true to his word, gets up and approaches the stove before summoning a kettle. _He’s just leaving the Kindle as though I don’t have the capacity to snoop through his stuff… he trusts me? Idiot._

He decides not to touch it.

A split-second whistle and a bit of time later, Logan has set down two cups of lavender tea. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“I can imagine,” Dee mutters, holding the blanket-cape together from the inside. After a bit of uncomfortable silence, Logan questions, “Do you not like tea? I would offer coffee, but that would be counterintuitive, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t have my gloves,” Dee mumbles quietly, tightening his grip on the blanket cape.

Logan raises an eyebrow, while sipping the tea. “Are they… important?”

_I guess I _am _being a bit over dramatic… it’s not like _he’s _the type to judge._

Dee shrugs and hesitantly reaches for the cup, ignoring how the light shimmers against the scales covering his hand. Black, almost claw-like nails clink against the ceramic cup.

“So, why _are _you awake?”

Deceit sighs and tries to come up with a lie that he’d believe.

“I… couldn’t sleep either.”

After a beat of silence, Logan says, “Falsehood.”

“How would you know?”

“Was last week nonexistent for you? No one is that tired because of a little more or a little less sleep. You looked, according to Virgil, like you hadn’t slept in fuckin’ ages.”

_Mental note: tell Logan to write that on a vocab card._

Dee smiles tiredly and mumbles, “Sounds like him.”

“If it’s something in the Dark Side, you are welcome to sleep here.”

_Wh—woah you’re jumping pretty far—_

“Only if you want to.”

_._  
.  
.  
.

“Okay… I’ll just… take the couch…”

~

Sunset. Now that was a first. Orange streaks across the sky, while pink clouds that look like cotton candy float above. The lake reflects the orange, giving it a fiery look. Deceit smiles but waits for it. Again. _Only Logan knows I’m here and he seems to have no ill intent… but…_

Nothing.

It’s still so much worse than something.

Trickle and Lied stares up at him, doing the blep thing, still adorable.

Deceit stands and approaches the small town once more. He has yet to visit the old couple as of late, more trinkets must have been made. He always loved the glass ones—especially the ones with practicality.

As he approaches the shop, he sees that not only have more been made, but they’ve gotten cleaner designs, as well. A coiled snake paperweight delicately painted to look real—wishing stones along with small bracelets adorned with rare feathers. They’re all lovely, and certainly worth more than what the old couple would sell them for—

He reflexively jumps back when a car rolls in, stopping near the shop. _What the hell…?_

The car looks expensive, completely the opposite of the town, and out steps a young man with a barely contained smile. The old couple gasp and immediately leave the shop, heading towards the young man with unrestrained happiness.

Well, this got awkward. Deceit steps back, unsure of what to do, and slowly moves to leave, or at least go a little farther.

After they hug, and they all exchange the simple pleasantries, young man shows off a ring and starts excitedly saying, “I’m engaged! Finally, right? And my new fiancé’s great, you’d really like him!”

_This is going to go wrong. It’ll turn out that the sweet old couple’s a pair of homophobes, huh?_

“Well, honey...” _Here it comes._ Even the son looks ready for the worst. “We haven’t met him yet! When can we meet him?”

The snake Side pauses, surprised at such a good ending to that. The son is relieved beyond belief and after a few more words, the three of them clamber in the car. The old woman calls out to another shopkeeper, one that had the face of Valerie, asking her to watch over their shop. Of course, she’ll do it. Honor system, and whatnot. They drive off, heading towards… somewhere. It’s _his _dreamscape—where are they going that he hasn’t seen yet?

~

Deceit holds his breath briefly, the sound of people moving about startling the light sleeper. Subtle sound of a slipper hitting the carpet, and the small noises coming from a phone being played with. The less subtle noise of a pan being placed on a stove. _Logan? Patton?_ The blankets previously used as a cape covers almost the entirety of the Side, leaving only a bit of the snake half of his face visible.

The phone tapping is coming from Virgil, who instantly notices the figure. He doesn’t say anything, assuming he was still sleeping, and pokes Dee. Reflexively, Deceit shoves himself backwards, hiding most of himself with one of the many blankets.

“Hey—” Virgil snaps his fingers. “You sleepwalkin’ or something?” Fair assumption, seeing as Deceit still had his eyes screwed shut. The sound of more footsteps indicates whoever was about to cook has decided that this was more interesting.

“Virgil, you know it’s dangerous to attempt to wake—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, teach.”

Deceit opens his eyes and immediately looks for the clock. Five am. _Three hours. _

“It’s five…”

Virgil, still tired from just waking up, replies, “Yep. You’re not blind yet.”

Logan says, “Three hours is still not ideal. I had gotten five hours prior to our meeting, while it appeared that you received none.”

Dee’s still happier and more energetic than he’s been in a while. _Finally! The dream—a happy ending. _

“You okay, snakeface?”

“Never better, My Chemical Aromance.”

Virgil narrows his eyes. “If you’re ‘never better’, then I’m Crofters’ biggest fan.”

Deceit swears that Logan’s eyes flash red, exactly in the way that one meme does. Patton tiredly walks into the kitchen, notices the empty, cold pan. Dee sees the Side and the image of Patton dangling with his Watson scarf wrapped around his neck burns itself into his mind again. Dark blood spatters the floor, said blood coming from both his eyes and his mouth, an aesthetic choice by Remus. Dee shuts his eyes and looks down slightly, the whole ‘inverse of Patton’ thing making that particular image worse.

“Hey, what’s… oh, hey Patton,” Virgil mutters, getting a small wave from the aforementioned Side. Deceit slowly opens his eyes, remembering something Remus talked about. ‘_Logan said repression was bad! That means none of ‘em can stop me!!’_

“Hey Lo, do you want me to make the eggs today?” Patton asks, receiving a ‘yes, please’ from Logan.

_How domestic. _

“I guess I’ll be taking my leave now,” Dee announces, swiftly moving back to where he entered. He pulls the heavy blankets back onto his shoulders and moves to leave.

A crash from upstairs startles the group. “There’s Roman!” Patton chimes, earning a few worried glances. _Roman, tacked to a wall by his own sword. _Dee notices, now, that in that particular intrusive thought, Remus kept the gore to a minimum. At least he cares a bit.

“Is he okay?”

“Yep, probably, I think. Probably just had an exciting dream or…” he thinks for a moment. “Maybe one of the creatures in the Imagination got out!! Hopefully it’s one of the deer, those are adorable!”

Logan rolls his eyes, subtly stepping closer to Deceit. “I doubt it. He usually keeps chive and thyme near the entrance, for that exact reason.”

“Well, a man can dream!”

“We’re not 'men', we're metaphysical beings that are split pieces of our host’s personality—”

Virgil groans, annoyed, and Logan stops, realizing it was a phrase. Roman comes down the stairs, more ‘out of it’ than usual. “Hi everyone…” he mumbles.

Deceit is now _really _eager to leave. His exit is overdue.

Due to the commotion upstairs, Dee barely notices when Logan grabs the former’s left hand, inspecting the scales that mar the smooth skin.

“Mulga…? No, they’re too green for that…” he notes, running a nail over the scales. Deceit rips his hand away and laughs awkwardly to make up for the knee-jerk reaction.

“Sorry,” Logan apologizes simply, as though that wasn’t weird.

“I’ll—I’m gonna go now, so, summon me when you need me.”

_What a lovely exit. As smooth as gravel. _

Deceit shivers again, the sudden cold of the Dark Side jarring. The sound of Remus singing sends his fight-or-flight reflexes going, his own little ‘anxiety’ hunched up, halting the music of a phonograph.

“Dee!! You’re back!” Remus cheerfully calls, bounding up to the Side. “You know, while you were gone, I thought we could do some redecorating! Now, some things I got from our local Home Depot, some things I got from our neighbors—”

“There are big brushes and buckets of dark red paint…”

“The neighbors were more than generous, so I think we can really paint the whole town red!” he pauses. “Well, the whole house, at least!”

Deceit smiles tiredly, and wonders, “Can I sleep while you do it?”

Remus frowns and grumbles, “No! I need the extra three pairs of hands!” _The two extra pairs of mine that seep energy out of me like a hungry leech? _

“…Alright, Remus.”

“Yaay!!”


End file.
